Unexpected Odds
by murrey-2012
Summary: Love is never easy, something that 16 year old Chloe Saunders knows well; especially when the object of your attraction is the star quarterback and the center of every girl's attention. How can Chloe convince a guy she's never even talked to that she exists? And how will she get past her jittering nerves long enough to look him in the eye?
1. Chapter 1

**So, I was fully intending to put this off until the end of the year and post it on fictionpress. Well, that little part of me that hates breaks and change decided now was a good time to write up a first chapter and see what you guys think. And I might still post it on fictionpress with different names, but we'll see. Anyway, I know this is short, but it's only the first chapter and the chapters will get longer with time. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Darkest Powers**

"Keys," I muttered. "I know I had them yesterday."

I pulled up on my jacket and the entire content of my desk flooded over onto the floor. Grimacing, I leaned down to clean up my mess.

"Chloe!" Dad called from the kitchen. "You're going to be late!"

One quick glance at my alarm clock proved him right. Ignoring the mess and my lost keys, I swung my backpack over my shoulder and raced out of my bedroom. As I ran past the kitchen, Dad called out,

"Find your keys?"

"I'll walk!" I called back.

I raced down the stairs of the apartment building and sprinted through the first few blocks before slowing down to a walk. The strap of my backpack started cutting into my shoulder and I stopped to readjust. A motorcycle sped past me and I looked up, my eyes following it until it disappeared around the corner. Apparently I wasn't the only one late for something.

I continued on and sighed in relief when the school came into view. Being late on the first day was not the impression I wanted to make, especially when my first class is chemistry. I needed to stay on my teacher's good side if I expected to pass that class.

The halls were abuzz and filled to the brink when I stepped through the front door. I had to awkwardly stand behind a lot of hugging people before finally making it to my locker. As I emptied my backpack, I looked around at everybody. I spotted a group of girls actually crying as they hugged the life out of each other. I love my friends, but tears were never involved.

"Ugh, I think I might vomit," Mila said, walking up next to me.

Mila Andrews had been my best friend since middle school. She was sort of my self-proclaimed bodyguard and she didn't exactly play fair. She spent most of her days hiding underneath a bulky sweatshirt, making her appear smaller and weaker than she actually is, which comes in handy when someone bigger than her tries to pick a fight. She wasn't a violent person, but she could hold her own. I thought it was a shame she chose to go around in a giant sweatshirt. She has such a phenomenal figure. However, in eighth grade we had a swimming unit in gym. Matt Walters called her hot once and she hasn't shown an ounce of skin since.

"I'm sure there's an open stall somewhere," I said.

"I hate all this happy-feely crap," she complained. "Everybody is all happy and chipper; hugging everybody and exclaiming how much they missed them when in reality they were just as excited to get away from them for three months. And they're all retelling every disgusting detail about their summer vacation which they spent in sunny California having a romantic tryst with Pedro the cabana boy."

"I doubt everybody had a tryst with Pedro," I said. "Especially the guys."

"You never know," she said. "The grass _is_ really greener."

I rolled my eyes, smiling. "What's your semester look like?"

"Psychology and Creative Writing," she said.

"That's exactly what you need," I said sarcastically. "To learn how to mentally disable people."

"How about you?"

"Gym," I said.

"They put _you_ in gym?" she asked. "You'll be pummeled."

"Thanks for the confidence," I said. "At least I got theatre like I wanted."

"I don't think you had much competition with that one," Mila said. "You're probably the only person not in it for an easy A."

"Be that as it may," I said. "I plan to make this my best year yet."

"And I'll be the one on the sidelines cheering you on in spirit."

…,,,…

My first two hours passed as expected: roll call followed by an hour of introductory exercises, which was fine by me. Today was probably the only easy day I'd get all year for chemistry and algebra. My next class, however, was the one I was most worried about. My aunt assured me that nobody fails gym, but I was convinced that I'd be the first. I had no balance, no coordination, and no strength.

Stepping into the gym, I found my class and then proceeded to lean against the wall. I didn't recognize that many people. A handful of faces were familiar, but for the most part they were complete strangers. I did recognize two people, but it was a lost cause. The first was Amber Long. She was a senior and was the co-captain of the cheerleading squad. Not even in utter desperation would I talk to her, though. I wasn't one to slander others, but she was the greatest bitch I'd ever met. She practically ran the school. Well, almost ran it. The quarterback of the football team was the king. We have a new quarterback this year because our old one graduated. I didn't know who the new one was, but he now reigned supreme and Amber would have her claws in him in no time. In fact, she practically decided who you could and couldn't date. For instance, if he was captain of any of the sports teams, you could forget it.

The other person I recognized was Simon Bae. He was also a senior and, like Amber, was as popular as they come. Unlike Amber, Simon had a little substance to go with his popularity. Underneath his popular exterior, he was genuinely a nice guy. I hadn't really ever talked to him, but he didn't make the friends he had just by his social standing. Even his flaws boasted his status. Simon Bae was as fickle as a person could get. I couldn't really criticize him, though. At least he was honest about it. He didn't exactly make my heart go pitter-patter, though. Even if it did, there was a little problem. Simon was captain of the basketball team. An instant dating no-go.

"Alright, everybody to the center," Coach Wilson shouted as he came in wheeling a cart full of basketballs.

I pushed myself off the wall and followed everybody to the center of the gym. The coach has us stand in a line and he numbered us off into groups of four. I wasn't really paying attention, so when I wandered over to my group, I was surprised to find myself with Amber and Simon. The last person was some guy from the basketball team.

"Every group gets one ball," Coach Wilson announced. "You're going to practice passing."

I sighed. Time to test my butterfingers. Simon started it off first and we went around clockwise. We had a pretty good rhythm going down until I missed and it rolled into the middle of our circle. Simon and I went for it at the same time and he ended up grabbing my hand.

"Sorry," he said, flashing that charming smile my way.

I shook my head. "My fault."

I stepped back and let him take the ball. He passed it to Amber, who was supposed to pass to Peter, the other guy. Before I knew what happened, she launched it at me and it collided with my head.

"Learn to catch," she snapped.

I blinked away the cartoon birdies and picked up the ball. Resisting the urge to hit her back, I passed it to Simon.

Gym ended soon after, which I would have cheered about if my head wasn't throbbing. Simon and Peter wandered off and I leaned down to pick up the ball. Before I could touch it, somebody's foot came flying out of nowhere and sent it rolling across the gym. I looked up to see Amber standing above me. Even after I stood up, she still had at least half a foot on me.

"Listen up, pipsqueak," she said. "I run this school. Don't think I didn't notice your attempt at stealing Simon. He's mine and I don't need some freshman coming in and thinking they can take him."

"I'm not a fr-"

"I'm talking!" she snapped. "Come basketball season, Simon's going to be a big star and _I'm_ going to be on his arm. So you can forget about him. And hands off the quarterback."

She pulled back and plastered on the fakest smile I'd ever seen. "Have a nice day."

I watched her as she walked across the gym, her heels clicking against the hardwood. I wasn't exactly sure when just happened, but I had a feeling I'd just made an enemy.

My headache had dimmed a little when I got to English. I took a seat next to Mila and told her about my adventures in gym.

"Amber needs somebody's foot up her ass," Mila said. She looked around the room and grimaced. "Yippee. English. My favorite class."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a deeply cynical nature?" I asked.

"My parents tried to send me to a therapist," she said.

"What happened?"

"He had to see a therapist," she said dryly.

I shook my head and turned my attention to the woman who had just walked into the room.

"For those of you who don't know or can't read, I am Ms. Davis. For those of you who _can_ read, congratulations. You have something in common with most six-year-olds. Yes, there is an 'R' in front of my name. If you learn when it stands for, I suggest you keep it to yourself. If I hear anybody call me by it, there will be a foot-shaped indent in your ass."

"I think I might love her," Mila whispered to me.

"You would."

Ms. Davis continued. "Most of your teachers will begin by doing an introductory activity to get to know each other. I will not. You've had twelve years to learn each other's names."

Mila and I shared a look.

"From now until the end of the year, each of you will be responsible for a project. It will focus on sports. I don't care which sport you do, but along with it you will hand in a twelve-page paper. This assignment is due at the end of the year. You can pick up a rubric at the end of class."

At the end of class, we finally got a break in the form of lunch. When we entered the cafeteria, we found Sam waiting for us. Sam Martin has been my friend almost as long as Mila has. She moved to Buffalo in eighth grade and our little band of misfits adopted her. Sam wasn't a raving beauty like Mila, but what she lacked in looks she made up for in brains. She was probably the smartest student in school. Well, second smartest. She gets private tutoring in math because she's already taking college-level math. According to her, there's a guy who has a private tutor as well, but he's a few levels above her. She won't tell us who he is though. There must be some genius trust thing that we dimwits aren't aware of.

"Good table," I said, sitting down.

"I had to kill two people," Sam said.

"Where'd you hide the bodies?" Mila asked.

"In the sloppy joes," she said.

I dropped my sandwich back on the tray. Appetite ruined.

"That's why I don't eat meat," Mila said as she stabbed a tomato from her salad with a fork.

"Because it may be dead people?" I asked.

"Yes," she said. "You can't hide dead people in lettuce."

"But you can harvest vegetables that were grown from the nutrients of decaying bodies," Sam said.

I dropped my carrot stick next to the sloppy joes.

"Thanks, Sam," I said. "You should do weight-loss videos. Ten steps to a disgusted you."

"Speaking of disgusting," Mila said. "Check out Amber. She's gonna need bib for all that drool."

I looked over to the table occupied by the basketball team. She was leaning over Simon's shoulder and laughing at something one of the guys had said. My eyes drifted to the seat next to Simon. It was empty.

"The football team is eating lunch on the field," Sam said, reading my mind.

"Oh," I said.

It was no secret among my friends that a certain football player had caught my eye last year. I never told him, though. I was going to tell him on the last day, but he didn't come to school. Not that it really would have made a difference. He was too high socially to even notice me.

When lunch ended, I had study hall. Normally I spent the hour doing homework, but I didn't have any yet, which meant I had to figure something else out.

Walking into the classroom, I stopped dead in my tracks. Sitting at the back of the room with his feet kicked up on the desk and a book propped open in front of him was the football player I'd just been thinking about. Derek Souza. But there was something different about him. The first thing was he'd gained about twenty pounds of muscle, as evidenced by the straining fabric of his t-shirt. The second thing was the sheer amount of girls gawking at him, most importantly Amber Long who was sitting in the second seat at his table and gushing about something while undressing him with her eyes. And seeing how Amber only went after top guys, Derek had obviously make quarterback this year.

I felt the air rush out of my lungs and I claimed a seat in the front of the room. If Derek was quarterback, he was completely out of my league.

When Ms. Davis walked in to start study hall, the room went silent. Apparently her reputation was widely known. She took a seat and started sifting through papers, completely ignoring us. When a sophomore started talking to the person next to him, she looked up and sent him a death glare. That shut him up instantly.

By the time the final bell rang, I was exhausted. I trudged to my locker and after two attempts to remember the combination, I finally got it open. I packed my backpack with what I needed and shut my locker. I was so zoned out that I didn't notice the open locker next to me and I walked into it. My face collided and his slammed shut. Embarrassed, I kept my eyes screwed shut. I expected complaining. When I heard the sound of someone turning the lock, I opened my eyes and froze. Standing at the locker next to me was Derek. He completely ignored me and filled his bag. Shutting his locker, he turned and walked off without saying a word.

I stood, frozen in place, and watched his back as he headed off towards football practice. Derek Souza has the locker next to mine. This is going to be a long year.

**Voila! What do you think?**


	2. Fire Alarms

**Guess who's in the writing mood? I was going to hold off a bit, at least 24 hours, before I started the next chapter, but this seemed like a better use of my time than going to class. Anyway, I loved the reaction for the last chapter. You guys are great. **

**This chapter is dedicated to Vera Kate for being the first reviewer of this story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Darkest Powers**

"Have you ever considered that maybe the fates have some list of people to screw with and you're on it?" Mila asked.

She uncapped the nitric acid and measured out ten milliliters into the beaker. I wasn't really paying as much attention to our chemistry lab as I should be, but my mind seemed to be elsewhere. As much as I tried to rationalize everything and push it all to the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think about my crappy luck. I'd known for a week about Derek's promotion and yet some part of me wouldn't stop hoping that maybe somehow he'd still notice me. I wasn't normally this boy crazy, but I spent a lot of the summer planning out how I would tell him.

"Earth to Chloe?" Mila asked, snapping her fingers in my face.

"Huh?" I asked, looking over at her.

She stared at me for a second for rolling her eyes. "Get your mind off him. You said it yourself, there's no chance. Besides, why would you even want to date him now? He's been quarterback for a week and he's never been without a horde of girls around him."

"Maybe he doesn't care about them," I offered hopefully.

She bopped my forehead with her palm. "Chloe, no. I don't care how heroic you think he is. He's a guy. Surround any guy with cheerleaders and his pants aren't going to stay on for long."

I sighed and leaned back against the counter. "Yeah. I guess you're right. I was just so looking forward to this year and maybe finally getting a boyfriend and having a life."

"You have a life," she said. "Albeit a rather boring one, but it's a life. And you can still have a boyfriend. Look around. There are 1,200 people in the school. Chances are someone is single."

I stood up straight. "You're right. I've got to stop moping around. I need to focus on other things, starting with this lab."

I turned around and picked up one of the beakers. "So we're supposed to mix these, right?"

I started to pour the contents into main beaker when Mila turned around. "Chloe, no! That's not the nit-"

The contents of the beaker started to bubble and Mila pulled me back with her hands over my mouth and nose. Somebody turned to see what was happening and their elbow collided with their lit Bunsen burner. It tipped over was sent sprawling towards us. Before I could react, the beaker went up in flames and someone in the room screamed. The sprinklers above us started to rain down. More screaming erupted as everybody became soaked. Somewhere down the hall, the fire alarm began to blare and every alarm in the school soon followed.

"Everybody outside!" Mr. Thomas yelled over the chaos.

Mila yanked my arm, pulling me after her. The halls were a massive stampede of highschoolers rushing to get to safety. I tripped over someone's foot and started to go down. I lost my grip of Mila and gasped. Before I could be trampled, somebody grabbed onto the back of my shirt and yanked me back up. I turned to thank them, but they lightly shoved me forward, silently telling me to keep going. I didn't have a chance to see who my savior was.

When I made it through the front door, I was finally allowed a little arm room as the mob diffused over the front grounds. I found Mila standing at the curb. Sam was standing with her, looking around. She spotted me and waved her arms to get my attention.

"Second week of school and you've already blown up the chemistry room," Mila said. "I'm impressed."

I could feel my face heat up. "I don't blow it up. I just accidently mixed the wrong chemicals and it happened to light on fire. What did I pour in anyway?"

"_Not_ nitric acid," Mila said.

"Nice going," a voice came from next to me.

A guy a recognized from class walked up, smiling. "That was sweet."

He held up his hand and I awkwardly high-fived him. He went back to his friends and I looked over at Mila in confusion.

"Don't question the male population," she said. "He's just happy to get out of class."

The distinct sound of sirens came blaring from down the street and I groaned. Dropping my head in my hands, I could hear a few people cheer at the incoming fire truck. I peeked through my fingers to see Mila smiling.

"Yes," she said. "I think this might just be your best year yet."

…,,,…

The excitement of someone 'blowing up' the chemistry room was short-lived after the Fire Marshall declared it safe to reenter the building. My teacher assured me that accidents happen and it was nobody's fault, but perhaps it would be best if my partner handled the chemicals from now on. Luckily word didn't spread that it was me who started everything, so when I walked into algebra it was still like I didn't exist.

"Alright, settle down," Mr. Lyle said as he walked into the room. "I know the fire trucks were exciting but we have a lot to cover today."

I pulled out my notebook and mindlessly copied down everything he wrote. We were still discussing material from last year and as much as I knew I should pay attention, I couldn't bring myself to care enough. I'd get Sam to explain it to me after school. I glanced out the window at the student parking lot outside. Something caught my eye and I spotted the principal walking through, happily writing parking citations and sticking them to windshields. Many people were still without parking permits, but still tried to park in the student lot. At least something good can be said about my still lost car keys. He continued down the line and stopped beside a motorcycle. I sat up straight. That was the same motorcycle I saw on the first day. I didn't know any students here drove a motorcycle. A permit was clearly stuck about the ignition and the principal seemed angry that he couldn't write out a ticket.

"What are you looking at?" Mila asked.

"Whose bike is that?" I asked.

"No idea," she said. "I've seen it around town a couple of times. There's not many like it in Buffalo."

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking over at her.

"It's restored," she said. "There's not many restored bikes like that."

"I wonder who it belongs to," I mused.

The bell rang out and I looked up at the clock. I had spaced out that last half of class. Collecting my stuff, I took my time at my locker. The less time in gym, the better. So far there haven't been any more incidents with Amber, but I wasn't one to push my luck. I glanced at the locker to me. Except for the first day, Derek seemed to never be at his locker. I only stopped at mine every other class or so, so he must go in-between.

After a few drawn out minutes, I resignedly went to gym. After quickly changing into my shorts and gym tee, I found my class in the center court of the gym. Coach Wilson didn't notice me coming in a few minutes late.

"We're doing partners today," he said. "Half of you will be doing mobile passes and the other half will practice shooting. Find a partner and grab a ball."

I walked over to the cart and pulled out a ball. I hated doing partner activities. There were an even number of students, but I was always stuck with the one who sat along the wall and refused to participate.

I looked around absently and didn't notice somebody standing in front of me until they waved a hand in front of my face. I jumped and looked up to see Simon smiling down at me.

"Hey," he said.

"Uh, hi?"

"You got a partner?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"Great," he said. "Want to be mine?"

"Uh…."

"Come on, I don't bite," he said.

I glanced behind him and saw Amber fuming. I knew I'd regret it later, but I really wanted a little revenge from her constantly clinging to Derek's arm. I also wanted revenge for the lump on my head, but I was already almost over that. Just because I'd given up all hope of dating him didn't mean I couldn't have a little fun.

I looked back at Simon. "Sure."

I lightly tossed him the ball and followed him to one of the numerous baskets.

"Alright, so I'm going to shoot it and then I'm going to miss, okay?"

"Aren't you on the basketball team?" I asked. "Should you really be missing?"

"Well I _can_ make it in," he said. "But what's the fun in that?"

He had be stand next to the basket. "Okay, I'm going to miss and then you catch it and get it in."

I hesitated, then nodded. He tried a few and I only ended up catching one…with my face. No blood was spilled, but our positions were switched. It went a lot better when I was doing to shooting. My missing was on purpose like his, but I felt a little better because I knew I was helping him practice for basketball.

"So, I wanted to offer my thanks," he said, tossing the ball up and in the hoop.

"For what?" I asked.

"For getting me out of my economics quiz," he answered.

I caught the ball and stared at him. "What?"

"You set off the fire alarms, right?" he asked.

"Where did you hear that?" I asked, shocked and embarrassed.

"From Derek," he said.

"Derek?" I asked. "Derek Souza? How does he know?"

"I didn't ask," Simon said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm a little impressed actually."

"Oh god," I groaned. "Does the whole school know?"

"I doubt it," he said. "I don't know who told him, but he probably only told me."

He walked up to me and took the ball. "Hey, don't worry about it. It's only the second week of school. Nobody will remember it come October. Especially when the basketball team-"

He cut himself off, as if he was about to say something he wasn't supposed to. "_Anyhoo."_

A sharp whistle echoed through the gym Coach Wilson excused us to change. Simon ran off towards the guys' locker room and I stayed rooted to the floor. How did Derek find out? I wasn't even aware that he knew who I was.

I walked into English and sat down next to Mila.

"You look tired," she said. "Get beat up into gym again?"

"No. Well, yeah kinda," I said. "I only got hit once, though."

"Amber again?"

"No, Simon this time," I said. "But that just means Amber tomorrow."

"Simon hit you?"

"Not on purpose," I said. "The ball slipped through my fingers and landed on my face."

"I'm not responding to that," she said.

"Oh, and Simon thanked me for getting him out of economics," I said. "Apparently Derek let him know who it was who set off the alarms."

"Derek? Quarterback Derek? How does he know?"

"I have no idea," I said. "But now I have to worry about who else knows. And how to live past this humiliation."

"Well, they have been best friends since kindergarten," Mila pointed out. "Chances are they don't have many secrets from each other. And what does it matter who else he told? They'll just forget it by October."

"Have you been talking to Simon?"

"Please," she scoffed. "The only reason I'd talk to him is to tell him he's on fire."

"Why would he be on fire?" I asked.

"Well, he will be if he spreads your name around," she said.

"I love you to pieces, but you scare me sometimes," I said.

…,,,…

I bit into my cheeseburger and listened to Sam and Mila argue about the flammability of different hair products. They had no idea what Simon used on his hair, so Sam was offering advice on the basics. Mila wasn't serious when she said she'd light Simon on fire, but it still made an interesting lunch conversation.

"So," Mila said, turning to me. "Have you chosen a sport for English yet?"

I nodded. "I'm doing football."

She gave me a look.

"Don't criticize me," I said. "There's a lot of information on football. What do you expect me to do, synchronized swimming?"

"I heard our team is pretty good," Sam said.

"But football?" she said. "Don't you want to stand out a little? _Everybody_ will be doing football."

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Basketball," she said.

"Is that because Matt is on the team?" Sam asked, smiling.

Mila chucked a grape at Sam, who caught it. Sam and I burst out laughing at Mila's reaction.

"Matthew Walters has nothing to do with my English project," she said. "Besides, I won't be talking to any of them anyway."

"I will be," I said. "The football team, anyway. I'm hoping to get an interview with the players for a personal effect. I'm going to ask the coach after school today."

"You know you'll have to talk to Derek, right?" Mila said. "He _is_ on the team."

"I'm aware. But I can save him for last," I said. "I have all year."

"Hmm," she said.

She turned around and looked over at the basketball table, where Derek was sitting next to Simon with his back to us. I knew a couple of the guys at the table and a few of the girls, including Simon's sister Tori. Tori was a junior, like us, but she was always with the seniors. She wasn't in any sports, like the rest of the table, but her best friend was head cheerleader, so she had an in with that crowd. Her best friend, Liz Delaney, was probably one of the nicest people who'd ever meet. She definitely didn't fit the head cheerleader stereotype. She was in my theatre class last hour, but I've never thought to ever talk to her.

"Have you ever noticed that Derek only talks to two girls in the entire school?" Mila asked. "I mean, he's constantly surrounded by girls, but I've only ever seen him start a conversation with two. Why do you think that is?"

"Who are you talking about?" Sam asked between bites.

"Tori and Liz," Mila said. "I've never seen him actually willingly talk to anyone else."

"Well, Tori is Simon's sister," I offered. "And Simon is Derek's best friend. I'm sure he sees her a lot."

"And Liz is Tori's best friend," Sam said. "I'm sure they all hang out a lot."

"I buy the tori one, but not Liz," she said. "He pretty much _has_ to talk to Tori, but I've seen him alone with Liz. A lot."

"Maybe they're dating," Sam offered.

"I don't think so," Mila said. "I think it's something else."

We watched as Liz crossed the room from the table she'd just been talking to and stop behind Derek. She leaned down and said something in his ear. He shook his head and she leaned her chin on his shoulder. She said something else and he nodded. Whatever he nodded made her happy and she wrapped her arms around his neck in a backwards hug.

"They look pretty friendly," Sam said.

"But they've always been like that," I pointed out.

"It's mysterious," Mila said.

"I think you're grasping at straws," Sam said.

"Fine, but you're going to hear 'I told you so' eventually," Mila said as she stood up to dump her tray.

We followed her out of the cafeteria and went our separate ways. I headed left to Ms. Davis's classroom for study hall. The room was practically empty when I walked in and I chose a seat in the middle row on the far side of the room so I could look out the window. I didn't bother looking over when I heard voices coming in. A chair at the table behind me scraped against the floor as someone took a seat. The distinct sound of someone's shoe hitting the desk told me Derek was sitting at the table behind me. A quick glance at the window next to him showed his reflection as he read. I watched him for a minute before Amber sat down next to him. Sighing, I turned back and looked out my own window.

Halfway through the hour, I was concentrating on geography homework when something collided with one of the legs of my chair. It rocked back and I gripped the corner of my desk to stop from falling over. The entire room looked at me, staring. Gritting my teeth, I ignored them. I went back to my homework. Sure enough, there was another collision. This time, I glanced down to see a foot. Before they could pull it back, I stomped on it as hard as I could with my heel. Behind me, Amber howled in pain.

"You bitch!" she screamed at me.

"Quiet!" Ms. Davis demanded from her desk.

"She broke my foot!" Amber screeched.

"If you kept it under your own desk you wouldn't have that problem," Ms. Davis said. "If I hear one more sound from you, you'll be picking gum off the desks. And I don't provide gloves."

I refused to look behind me and revel in my victory. It wouldn't last long anyway. She'd find some way to make my life hell later, probably in the most humiliating way possible.

The rest of the day passed quickly. I couldn't wait to get home, but I first had to talk to the football coach about my project. His office was located inside the guys' locker room, which meant I had to catch him either before he left for the field or after. I tried to gym first, but based on the silence inside, everybody was already on the field.

I walked along the edge of the field, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The players were already on the field running plays. My eyes drifted to number 25. A football uniform suited Derek. I found the coach by the benches.

"Coach?" I asked, walking up to him.

"No civilians on the field during practice," he said without looking up from his clipboard. "I already chased a group of you off."

"I'm not here to gawk at the players," I said.

He looked over at me. "What do you want, then?"

"I'm in Ms. Davis's English class and we have to do a project based on sports," I said.

He nodded and looked back at his clipboard. "I know of it."

"Well, I was hoping to do a more personal approach to my project," I explained. "And I was wondering if maybe I could watch the guys while they practice. I won't be a distraction, I swear."

"Students have been doing that assignment for years and no one ever needed to watch my players," he said. "Malloy! Defense!"

I bit my lip. "Yes, but I thought that maybe I could do a project from behind the scenes. You know, what really makes a team. I was hoping to study them as they go to state."

He looked over at me. I got bonus points with the going to state comment. "What do you need?"

"I want to watch them practice," I said. "Maybe film them so I can study them. Nobody will see the footage but me, I swear. And you can always use the tapes to help them. Show them what they're doing wrong when."

He looked pensive for a few minutes as he watched the field. "No talking to the players during practice. And I want a copy of every day's footage."

"Thank you," I said, grinning broadly. "I was also hoping maybe to do interviews with the players, after practice of course."

"That's their decision," he said. "I'll bring it up, but it's their choice."

I nodded. "I completely understand. Thank you so much."

I turned and walked back the way I came, a spring in my step. Today was really turning around. Too bad the school day was over.


	3. Competition

**Sorry for the wait. I started this a week ago, but stuff came up and I had a test today. I have one more before finals and then finals in two weeks, so I might not get a lot of down time. Sorry about that.**

**And I am really sorry. I completely forgot to mention this story is AU/AH. It didn't even occur to me that I'd forgotten.**

**This chapter is dedicated to MonkeyAssassin for reminding me of the above information. Thanks for that.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Darkest Powers**

"Football," I mumbled to myself, "Football."

I leaned down to get a better look at the next row down of books and skimmed the titles, my fingers lightly sliding over the bindings as I went. When I pulled them away, I noticed a greasy layer of dust coating my fingertips. I wasn't surprised. Being in the sports section of the school library, I hadn't seen a single person ever come down this aisle until the end of the year and now I know why. That's when all of Ms. Davis's English students rushed to do their projects. I normally would do exactly that, but I needed information on football so I could formulate questions for my interviews. If I went in blindly, I'd make a fool of myself and the entire thing would be a joke. I wasn't looking for anything excessive, but I at least needed to know the positions so I knew who I was talking to. So far, however, I was coming up with nothing. There _were_ some books on football, but it was mostly statistics and biographies of some of the more well-known players, not that I recognized any of the names.

I pulled back and sighed. I guess I was going to have to take Sam's older brother's offer for coaching. He played football at some college out west, I can never remember which one. Sam said he was going to be back in town this weekend and he offered to answer a few questions. I appreciated the offer, I really did, but Ben was a little hard to handle sometimes. He could be rather enthusiastic when it came to football and having him answer a few questions would be a little overwhelming. He did know what he was talking about, though. He played football here when he was a senior and almost took the team to state. He got hurt in the game before by some behemoth on the other team and we lost.

"Oh well," I sighed. "Guess I have my weekend plans."

I lifted my bag onto my shoulder and headed for the other end of the aisle towards the science books. I had a lab report to write for chemistry and beefing it up with some boring facts wouldn't hurt, especially after what happened. Mr. Thomas told me not to worry about it, but he did have to call my father. Dad didn't say anything about it, but I got a concerned lecture from Aunt Lauren. She was afraid that chemistry was too difficult for me and that maybe I should talk to my guidance counselor about a lower level science class. After getting over being insulted, I was determined to get a good grade in this class so she'll finally stop treating me like a little girl. I know her heart was in the right place, but her constant worrying was beginning to rub me the wrong way.

I came out into the middle aisle and read the words on the ends to find the chemistry books. I was disappointed to see that they were organized by title and not by subject. It was like they jammed all the science-y books into one pile. They could have at least provided shovels.

I started with the closest one and had to skim every title. I wasn't even sure what I was looking for. I didn't want something too complicated. I at least wanted to sound like I knew what I was talking about. I made it to the end of the aisle and was about to turned around and try the next row down when I heard soft laughter coming from the aisle next to mine. I ignored it and started looking again when a low rumble answered the laughter and I stopped. I knew that rumble. I eased the books in front of me apart and peeked through to see Derek's back as he perused the books. Standing next to him with her back also to me was Liz. I watched him pull down a book and hand it to her. She looked down at it and said something too low for me to hear. He looked down at her and she laughed again. _Maybe they_ are_ dating._ They looked pretty good together.

'Girls Just Wanna Have Fun' started blaring at full blast out of my jeans pocket. Horrified, I started tearing at my pocket to pull out my phone, but it was lodged under my belt. When I finally got it out I answered it as fast as I could. I could hear snickering coming from a few aisles behind me. Grimacing, I put the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I said.

"Banana nut or white chocolate cranberry?" Mila asked.

"What?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What kind of muffin do you want?" she asked. "And make it fast. They're going like crazy."

"Banana," I said, "Mila, I really have to go. I'm not really in a phone area at the moment."

"Fine," she said. "I'll see you in few."

I hung up and held the phone to my chest, my eyes clenched tight. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and I let out a shaky breath. I opened my eyes and looked around. No peeping eyes around the corners. Forgetting about the chemistry book, I rushed out of the library to meet up with Mila. I had arrived early today so I could go to the library. It had been a waste of time, apparently.

I met Mila at the front doors and she shoved a small paper bag at me.

"One's yours," she said. "The other is Sam's. I ate mine on the way here."

"Thanks," I said, trailing behind her to her locker. "I think it's time to change your ring tone."

"Why?" she asked. "That's our song."

"Something a little more sophisticated maybe," I said.

"Barbie Girl?" she asked, looking back at me.

"Something that won't get weird stares?"

"But that's the point," she said. "If you don't have to pull it out to stop the embarrassing music, then how will I know that you'll answer it when I call?"

"Trust?" I asked.

"Oh please," she said. "I'll trust you and when I get stranded on the side of the road with a flat tire and call you for help, you'll be too busy playing tonsil hockey with the quarterback and will totally ignore my _sophisticated_ ring tone."

My face heated up again and I looked around to make sure nobody heard that. "I think you're getting ahead of yourself. Or completely hallucinating."

"Whatever," she said. "You can change the ring tone, but I get to pick it."

"Please don't make it 'Barbie Girl'," I begged.

"I won't," she said, slamming her locker shut. "But I'm still going to have fun with it."

"I was afraid of that," I said, handing the cellular device over.

"You'll get this back after school," she said. "And no peeking when you do. I want you to be surprised."

The first bell echoed through the halls. She pocketed my phone and we headed to chemistry. We did our lab for the week yesterday, which meant the next four days would consist of longwinded lectures.

Algebra was the same as chemistry. A long lecture with no break to his monotone voice. I spent most of the hour looking out the window and staring at the black motorcycle parked at the other side of the lot like I did most days. I don't know why I found it so fascinating. Mila mentioned seeing it around town, and the more I thought about it, I realized that I'd seen it around town, too. Now, everywhere I go, I look for it. It was sort of like a game, like a scavenger hunt. The person who spots it in the most places wins. I still had no idea who it belonged to. Obviously it belonged to someone at this school, but that didn't limit it very much. Part of me wanted to know, but another part of me was enjoying the mystery.

…,,,…

"How was gym?" Mila asked as I sat down next to her.

"Stressful," I said. "Amber has yet to get back at me for stomping on her foot last week and I know that when she does it's going to be horrible."

"Then just ignore her," Mila said.

"Believe me, I've tried that," I said. "It doesn't really help. And I still have one more class with her today."

"But she won't have a basketball to aim at your face," Mila said. "Just don't sit near her and you'll be fine."

"So that's it?" I asked. "Spend the next eight and a half months avoiding her and looking over my shoulder?"

"She'll move on."

"Hopefully before I have a mental breakdown," I sighed, leaning my forehead on the desk.

"Well, the other option is giving her Derek," Mila said.

"He's not even mine to give her," I argued.

"But you're competition," she said.

"Competition?" I asked. "I've never even talked to him! And she's with him every day! How am _I_ competition?"

"To her, everyone is competition," she said.

Ms. Davis came in and our conversation stopped. I leaned my chin on my folded hands and listened to her lecture for the first half of class. At the halfway mark, she stopped talking and handed out our vocabulary packet for the week. It was easy homework for the most part, but it was also almost ten pages long. I took mine and passed the rest back before pulling out my pencil and mindlessly going through it. I didn't want to do too much in class. I needed something to keep my attention in study hall.

The rest of the day was a blur as I impatiently waited for the final bell. Today was my first day watching the football team practice. Because I didn't really know anything about football, I wasn't even sure what I was supposed to be watching for. Fortunately, my camera was fully charged so I could watch without understanding and go back later and re-watch when I did understand.

"Now, I want you to stay far away from the guys," Mila said as she stood by my locker. "They're like horny mutts. They'll hump anything."

"Mila, I don't really need any safety advice," I said. "I'm not even going to be talking to them. I'll be in the stands and out of sight. Besides, it's not very likely that they'd charge."

She shrugged. "All teenage guys are the same. They'll be all worked up after they're practice and they'll be looking for a release."

"This advice is just unnecessary," I said, shutting my locker. "It's like getting the sex talk again from my aunt…except weirder."

"Fine, but when you end up on your back, expect an 'I told you so'."

"Alright," I said. "I have to go. I want to be out there before the guys get on the field."

We said our brief goodbyes and parted ways. I headed for the football field, stopping to make sure the coach knew where I was going to be before finding a seat in the stands. I chose a seat halfway up so I was close enough to get a good view but high enough to see the entire field. I pulled out my camera and turned it on. I spent a few minutes fiddling with the settings before the first player stepped out onto the field. Soon after, the entire team surfaced. Pushing record, I held up the camera and pointed it at towards the team.

I tried to give equal time to everyone in the two hours I sat in the stands, but after half an hour I forgot who I had already filmed. When the coach finally blew the whistle and ended practice, I was stiff and my back was aching. It was no wonder people brought cushions and blankets and the whole nine yards with them when they went to games. I stopped recording and shut off my camera. My arms were really stiff and I groaned as I lifted my backpack. I waited until the field was completely empty before leaving the stands.

Stepping from hard metal to grass with stiff legs caused me to falter for a second. A large, beefy arm wrapped around my waist and pulled roughly against a large, foul-smelling torso. I gasped and looked up to see one of the players was leering down at me. I couldn't remember his name, but his face wasn't nearly as forgettable. Greasy, blond hair fell almost to his shoulders. Sweat spilled down his face and ran down underneath his jersey. The look in his eyes sent chills down my spine.

"Need some help, cutie?" he asked, his voice oozing with false charm.

"I-I-I d-don't think so," I said.

I laid my palm against his chest and pushed back. He held on tighter and I gasped at the pain.

"Oh, come now," he said, "You don't want to be leaving so soon. We've got the field to ourselves. Let's have a little fun."

"No," I said, pushing back harder.

He let go long enough to spin me around and pin me against the wall. He leaned down until I could smell his rank breath. When he spoke, his words were low and sensuous.

"I saw you up there, watching. I hope you enjoyed the show."

I twisted and ducked. His large frame and gear made it hard for him to react as fast and I managed to break free. He looked confused for a second before turning on me.

I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart and backed away. He scowled, but didn't follow. He glanced over my shoulder at something and his scowl got darker. I didn't wait for him to snap out of it. Turning around, I fled. I didn't hear him following me, but I didn't stop until I was back inside the school. The players had outside access to the locker room, so there was no need for him to follow me inside. I glanced one more time at the door before starting toward the front of the school. Next time, I wouldn't wait for practice to be over before leaving.

I stopped by my locker once more to grab my geography homework. As I shut my locker, I could hear feminine laughter coming from down the hall and I turned to see some of the cheerleaders coming my way. They're practice must have just ended, too. Liz was leading the group and she looked at me. The others were too focused on their conversation to notice me. As she passed, she smiled and held out her hand. Confused, I reached out and took whatever it was that was in her hand. She pulled back and sent one more smile my way before leaving with the others. I looked down to see a whistle in my hand. Confused, I looked up, but she was already gone.

Stuffing it in my pocket, I settled my backpack on my shoulder and headed home.

…,,,…

School the next day was hell. I didn't get any sleep and even after showering twice in scorching water, I still felt disgusting. I didn't tell Mila or Sam what happened, especially not Mila. She'd probably key his car or something. I considered reporting him, but I didn't know his name or his number and unfortunately for me, fairness wasn't exactly our school motto. Social status wasn't just for us students. It was common knowledge that athletes got away with a lot. It's my word against his and anything to jeopardize our football team was unacceptable. So, I didn't bother.

I managed to make it to lunch before almost passing out with exhaustion. I wasn't sure how I was going to get through the rest of the day, not to mention practice. I'd skip today, but the only reason the coach was allowing me to watch them was because it was helping him and if I missed a day, that was one day of footage he wouldn't get. I still had to give him yesterday's footage, too. I was going to do it before school, but I had a bit of a late start and almost missed the first bell.

"I've some Coke in my locker if you want it," Mila said when I almost face-planted in my spaghetti.

A few of the guys from the table over turned to look and she flipped them off. "The soft drink, morons."

I shook my head. "Caffeine makes me jittery."

"I think jittery is better than snoring in class," she said. "Just slip it into your water bottle and the teachers will never know. Your water bottle isn't clear, right?"

I shook my head. "I'll be okay. It's just a couple more hours."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. But, you know my combo if you change your mind."

…,,,…

I managed to slip out of my last class a few minutes early so I could catch the coach before he left for the field. I decided to miss today's practice after all and I didn't want to go all the way out to the field. I had to stop at my locker first, though, to grab my USB drive and by the time I got to the gym, the halls were packed with students and I crossed my fingers that the coach hadn't left already.

Entering the gym, I walked over to the door to the guys' locker room and hesitated. I couldn't go in. I didn't exactly qualify. I would have waited for him to come out, but they went out another door and that was outside. I sighed and backed up. My foot stepped on something and my back collided with something warm and hard. Yesterday flashed through my mind and I gasped. Jumping forward, I spun around and was instantly relieved when it wasn't the same guy. My relief was short-lived, however, when I saw Derek standing behind me. He looked at me blankly before stepping around me and pulling open the door.

I bit my lip and reached out. My fingers brushed against the back of his t-shirt and he stopped. Looking over his shoulder, he just looked at me.

"Could you give this to the coach?" I mumbled, holding out the USB drive and dropping my head to look at the floor. "I can't make it today."

I felt rough skin briefly against my hand. The door shut with a thud and I looked up. I glanced at my empty hand and realized that the rough skin was Derek's hand. He had taken the flash drive. The realization that I had actually managed to speak to Derek without sputtering like an idiot sent a blazing grin to my face.

"Yes!" I said, cheering myself.

I turned around and left the gym. I was in a better mood, but I was still too exhausted to sit through practice. As I stepped into the hall, I saw Liz standing with another cheerleader next to the door. She smiled at me as I passed.

"You're not watching practice today?" she asked, causing me to falter.

I looked back at her. "What?"

"For your project," she said. "You're not watching practice today."

I shook my head, confused as to how she even knew about it. "No, not today."

She nodded and turned back to the other girl. I turned and continued on. How did Liz know I was watching practice for a project?


	4. Blackmail

**Hey guys. I was hoping to have this up last Wednesday cause I had a snow day which postponed a calculus test and I was in a good mood but I only got a few pages written. Anyway, I finally finished it and I'm proud to say it's the longest chapter yet. I wasn't going to end where I did, but it felt like a good place to stop. Anyway, my finals are the week after next. Next week is basically normal for me, so I might get another chapter out before I have to start studying, but no promises. **

**This chapter is dedicated to the 'guest' that had a mile long list of predictions. Keep 'em coming **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Darkest Powers**

"Why do we have to get here so early?" Mila complained. "The game doesn't start for an hour. I bet the players aren't even here yet."

"I need to find a good spot so I can get good footage of the game," I said. "I don't want to be stuck behind someone twice my size and end up getting the back of their head for the entire game."

"But an _hour_ early?" she asked.

"Once one person shows up, they all swarm," Sam said. "If we don't get here early, all the seats will be taken. Would you rather stand for the entire game?"

"No," she said. "I'd rather be at home _enjoying_ my Friday night."

"Well, I don't really want to be here either," I said, "But I made a commitment and I can't back out now. The coach expects me to film the games and I already missed one practice. I can't give him any reason to hate me or he'll stop letting me watch practice."

"I brought my Gameboy," Sam assured her. "You can play it instead of watching the game."

"I think you need to be introduced to the 21st century."

I turned them out and focused on walking out to the field. This was the third game of the year, but it was only my first one attending. In fact, this was the first football game I'd even been to, so I wasn't sure what to expect. The practices had been controlled and predicted, so it wasn't like the real thing.

We stepped out of the dark and onto the brightly lit field. I stopped for a moment to look around. I'd only ever seen the field during the day and it didn't exactly impress me all that much. It wasn't much different at night, but then again the stands were still empty and the players weren't on the field.

"Come on," Sam said, leading the way.

I followed her into the stands and took a seat in the bottom row in the middle. When the stands started to fill up, I'd need to stand against the railing for the game. I checked my watch. There was just under an hour before the games was scheduled to start, which meant people would start arriving soon. I wanted to get a little pre-game footage, so I kept my eyes peeled for where I knew the coach would arrive.

As I waited, I pulled out my camera and double-checked my battery life and memory. Both were good. Lowering the camera to me lap, I reached up and absently played with the whistle on the chain around my neck. I never got a chance to ask Liz why she gave it to me. It was small, about the size of a locket. I didn't know what else to do with it, so I strung it on an empty chain and hung it around my neck. The chain used to hold a pendant I inherited from my mother. It was an old family heirloom that was passed from daughter to daughter. It was supposed to be my sixteenth birthday present, but when she died shortly after I turned six, my dad gave it to me early. He thought having something of hers would ease the pain. I wore it every day until the end of last year when I took it off to go swimming with Sam in the school pool and I didn't want to get chlorine on it. When I went back to the locker room, it was gone. Whoever had taken it left the chain and vanished.

"Looks like some people are starting to show up," Mila said, pointing down the field.

I looked down and saw a group walk up to the top of the stands. Not long after, the stands were filled with loud, rambunctious people. I had to push through some of them so I could see the field. I checked my watch and looked up. Any minute now.

I waited five more minutes before music started blaring. I winced and looked up to see the speaker right over my head. Turning on my camera, I pointed it towards the end of the field just in time for our team to run out with Derek in the lead. I made sure to get the other team as well. They're side of the stands were just as packed, which wasn't hard to believe because their school wasn't far from here.

The whistle blew and I watched through the camera as the ball snapped back and then everything was chaos. It all happened so fast I wasn't aware the play was over until a second whistle blew. Somehow the ball had made it down the field. This time when the play started, I tried to pay more attention. When the ball moved back, I recognized Derek's number as he dodged past two players from the other team and wound his arm back. He swung forward and let it go, gliding down the field and into the hands of one of our players. I made sure to follow the ball with our camera, but I winced when I watched two players tackle Derek as the ball left his hand. He got up just fine and I breathed a sigh of relief. My attention was drawn by loud cheering and I looked down the field to see the player who had caught the ball had scored a touchdown.

We didn't score anymore for the rest of the quarter, but we came close. When it was the other team's turn with the ball, I watched how our team handled it. There were a lot of tackles before they could even throw the ball. They didn't make it very far down the field before time ran out. I didn't know if it was because our team was really good or because their team was just that bad.

I turned off the camera and allowed my arms a rest. It was halftime, so I wouldn't need to film anything for little while. A lot of cheering rose when the cheerleaders came out for their show. I recognized Liz and Amber, along with a few other girls. I heard a couple wolf whistles coming from a few people down and I glanced over to see a few of the basketball players with their eyes glued to the girls' asses. Simon was among them, but he seemed to have the decency to keep the drool in his mouth.

The second half of the game was a bit more exciting than the first. We scored two more touchdowns and one of our players dislocated his shoulder when he slammed down after jumping to catch the ball. Luckily he fell into the end zone. The other team managed only one touchdown, making us the winners. I cheered along with everyone. I still didn't really care about football, but our team winning was worth cheering for.

I felt a hand grab the back of my shirt and pulled me back.

"Come on," Mila said. "Let's get out of here before they start celebrating."

I nodded and shoved my camera in its case before following Sam and her out.

"You have to do this _every_ Friday?" Mila asked as we walked back to her car. "What about the away games?"

"I need to talk to the coach about that," I said. "I don't really trust my car enough to take it out of the city, so there's really no way to get to an away game."

"I'm sure he'll understand," Sam said.

…,,,…

"I hate Mondays," Mila complained as we waited for Mr. Lyle to show up and start class.

"I couldn't agree with you more," I said, letting my eyes fall closed as I leaned my chin on the desk in front of me. "Ben kept me up past midnight all weekend. I think I've seen enough football to last me the rest of my life."

"Learn anything?" she asked.

"Just that Ben is longwinded and professional football is more brutal than I expected," I answered. "I did learn which position is which, though, so I guess that's progress."

"When do you do your interviews?"

"When the coach gets back to me about who will talk to me," I said. "I'm hoping to talk to every position, but I think that's just wishful thinking."

The door swung open and we looked up to see Mr. Lyle walk in and sit down at his desk. He looked a little disheveled.

"Wonder what's wrong with him," Mila said. "Maybe he has a hangover."

"I don't think that's what a hangover looks like," I said.

We exchanged looks and listened as Mr. Lyle began is lecture. Half the time he finished his sentence by trailing off and then going off on some tangent that wasn't related to algebra in any way. I was starting to think he really did have a hangover, except he seemed less 'my-head-is-killing-me' and more 'why-is-the-unicorn-in-the-corner-dancing-the-Charleston.' I'd never actually seen someone who was on drugs, being of sound mind and a sheltered upbringing, but this is how I would imagine it.

When the bell rang, Mr. Lyle passed out at his desk and we skirted around it. I felt the need to alert one of the faculty, but curbed it when I remembered I had gym next. Amber still had yet to outright enact her petty revenge on me for scuffing her new heels, which she felt was more important than me almost breaking her foot, and I could feel myself being pulled into a false sense of security. I did find a dead mouse in my gym locker, but I chalked it up to the fact that the girl in the locker under mine horded her lunch in her locker and never had time to finish it before or after class.

Walking out of the locker room, I found my class lounging on the gym floor as Coach Wilson scribbled away on his clipboard. I found an open area and sat down, crossing my legs.

Coach looked up and shoved his clipboard under his arm. "For the next few weeks we're going to be doing our fitness tests. We'll do the basics every day and see how you improve at the end of October when you'll be tested for your grades. Everybody grab a chart and put your name at the top. You'll be using this for the next month to keep track of your improvement. You'll also need a partner every day. It doesn't have to the same partner every day, so stop whining. Now get to work."

I got in line and picked up an empty chart and a pencil. Writing my name at the top, I looked around for anyone looking like they needed a partner. I almost considered asking Simon because he partnered with me for basketball the one time, but he was already partnered with another guy. Eventually, I just went with the one kid that never gets off their butt. None of the stuff actually required a partner, except we were supposed to run laps together and hold each other's feet during sit-ups. There were also the pull-ups, but I wouldn't be able to do even one with or without a partner.

I actually managed to break a pretty decent sweat by the time gym ended. Grabbing a quick shower afterwards, I dressed in my street clothes and was on my way to English. My potential physical fitness put me in a good mood and I gladly paid full attention to her lecture. It even lasted through the rest of the day, up until practice. Finding my usual seat, I turned on my camera and watched. After watching an actual game, I realized how gentle practice seemed. Injuries could happen, but when the team was split into two teams and one of the players tackled another, there wasn't any malice in it like the game. In fact, as soon as they were tackled, the tackler offered his hand.

My eyes drifted to Derek and I bit my lip. I know there was a lot of gear to protect them, but the bulge of the gear didn't hide the shear muscle underneath. I've never been one to drool over a guy, but Derek had a lot going for him. Sure, I'd seen plenty of guys shirtless. I've been swimming, but most of those guys were too busy doing dives and splashing each other to really notice anything and, though I've never actually seen Derek shirtless, none of them could hold a candle to what was under his shirt.

The sharp shrill of a whistle pierced through my thoughts and I realized I'd zoned out during the rest of practice. Hoping I at least got some footage during my trip to wonderland, I packed up my stuff and headed out. I made sure to leave before everybody was gone to avoid another incident. I hoped the coach being present would stop some of the raging hormones long enough for me to get to safe ground. So far so good anyway.

Walking off the field, I turned toward the parking lot. I actually managed to find my keys lodged between my desk and the wall and was happy to see my old, beat-up, Honda Civic. Not the most attractive car, grant you, but it gets me from A to B, as long as both are in the city of Buffalo and within thirty miles of each other. I also paid for it myself, which I consider my first major accomplishment. It wouldn't last me through college, but I'd cross that bridge when I got there.

As I jammed my keys in the slot and had to practically beg the car to unlock, I glanced up and saw the motorcycle I'd been admiring still in its spot. Whoever owned it must still be at school. I looked around, but nobody but me was in the parking lot. I abandoned my task momentarily and walked over to wear the sleek, black motorcycle was parked. It definitely wasn't brand new, which meant Mila was probably right when she said it was restored. There were a few dents here and there, but it seemed to be in pretty good condition. I wondered what it was like to actually ride it, but quickly shut down that idea. My dad would kill me if he saw me on anything without seatbelts and I honestly wasn't sure if I'd have the courage anyway. It really was a nice looking motorcycle, though. There were no signs pointing to who owned it. The mystery continues.

Walking back to my own heap of metal, I wrestled the door open and smiled when the engine started. Dad offered to get me something more reliable, but I didn't want to rely on him forever. I was still underage, so my branching out was limited, but a car was something I could buy and manage myself. Short of moving out and providing for myself, this was the closest I was going to get to self-sufficiency.

Parking in my usual spot, I noted the empty spot next to me. It was Monday, which meant that either Dad was locked away in his office at work or was on his way for another business trip. He didn't mention anything about a trip this morning, so I was counting on the former. He'd probably come home around midnight, which meant that I had the place to myself and no nosy housekeepers around. Whenever he left on a trip, our housekeeper, Anita, would always call constantly so it looks like she's earning her salary. She doesn't actually live with us, but she has her own place a few floors down.

Opening the door, I dropped my backpack by the door and ran into the kitchen. There was no last minute note on the fridge, which meant he was at work. The place was mine. Smiling, I quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top. Just because it was five o'clock didn't mean I couldn't start the night early. Heading back into the kitchen, I pulled out the flour and yeast and the rest of the ingredients for pizza dough. I only did this when Dad wasn't home, otherwise he might have a heart attack at the mess. He wasn't a neat freak, but I wasn't exactly the cleanest chef.

Turning on the radio, I cranked up the volume and let my hips sway to the rhythm as I kneaded the dough. I paid no attention to the flour coating the floor or my clothes. It'd wash. Spreading out the dough, I pulled out the rolling pin and mercilessly squished it to my preferred thickness. I was just about to start spreading on the sauce when the main phone went off. Rubbing my hands unsuccessfully on my pants, I answered it.

"Hello?" I asked.

Someone spoke on the other side, but I couldn't hear them.

"Oh, hold on," I said. I reached over and turned down the radio and said, "Okay, can you repeat that?"

"I seriously hope you're not deafening the neighbors."

"Hi, Dad," I said, continuing my cooking. "Where are you calling from? I didn't recognize the number."

"They're getting new numbers in the office and I forgot my phone on the charger so I'm borrowing a woman's from work," he explained.

"A woman, huh?" I asked, licking pizza sauce off my finger. "Did you ask for her number?"

"Chloe," he said in that stern parent voice.

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Your adult life is none of my business."

He sighed and I could picture him rolling his eyes. "There's a number on my phone that I need."

"Sure," I said, "One sec."

I went into his bedroom and found his phone on his nightstand. Unplugging it, I turned it on and read him off the number. He said his goodbyes and hung up, but not before telling me to make sure to clean up after myself. It was my turn to roll my eyes as I headed off to finish my dinner.

As soon as the pizza was out of the oven, I carried it into the living room and plopped down on the couch. My homework load was light tonight and a few hours of relaxing wouldn't kill me. Grabbing the remote, I flipped through the channels until I found a Hitchcock just starting. Tossing the remote on the table in front of me, I curled up in my blanket and bit into pepperoni goodness. I didn't realize how worn out I was from the day until I woke up to paid programming and the clock glowing 1:34. Cursing softly, I rolled off the couch and hit the floor with an oomph. Pulling myself up, I walked into the kitchen and cringed. It was clean, and I hadn't cleaned it. Dad must have picked everything up when he got home. Feeling the guilt, I made a promise to myself to make him dinner tomorrow night.

Hauling myself to bed, I pulled off my flour-coated clothes and crawled into bed, too tired to change into something else. Anchors pulled at my eyelids and I fell into darkness.

…,,,…

When Thursday rolled around, I was dreading the last bell. I still had yet to talk to the coach about tomorrow's away game and from the way practice has been going he probably won't be in a good mood.

Stepping out onto the field, I grimaced when I saw the coach barking orders. Yup. Bad Mood. Deciding to wait until after practice, I took my usual seat. Practice proceeded like normal. After an hour, I started spacing off.

"Hi," a voice came from behind me.

I turned my head and stopped. Standing behind me with his hands shoved deep in his pockets and a hesitant smile on his face was Simon.

"Hi?" I said, not understanding why he was talking to me.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the spot next to me.

"Um, sure," I said.

I pulled my bag closer to me so he could get his feet in the space. He didn't say anything when he sat down, just watched the field. I spent the next five minutes in awkward silence wondering why he was sitting next to me when the bleachers were completely empty. I was about to pack my bag when he started talking to me.

"I didn't think Coach Stevens allowed students to watch practice," he said. "He's usually uptight about secrecy."

"Oh, well I have written permission from him," I said as I rooted through my bag. Finding the slip of paper, I handed it to him. "See?"

He took it and read it over. Once he finished, he grinned. "Hey. You have Ms. Davis."

He handed back the paper. "I had her, too. Except I did my project on basketball."

"I wonder why," I said, putting the paper back.

"So, what are doing out here? Why aren't you in the library? Or at home watching TV and waiting until the last minute?"

"I'm doing a more hands on approach," I explained. "I'm doing interviews with all the players and watching them during practice and games."

"I didn't think of that," he said. "Of course, I would have had to interview myself and, well, I don't have a single thing to say against myself."

He finished with a grin and I couldn't help laughing at his expression.

"She's a tough grader, though," he continued. "I think I only managed an 81."

"But you're so good at basketball," I said.

"Apparently that's not on the rubric. I think out of all her classes, she gave three A's."

"Well, I have no chance in hell," I said.

"You're project is original," he pointed out. "You'll definitely get points for that."

"That's good," I said. "Because I need all the points I can get."

"On a different note," he said, a little awkwardly. "You have theatre last hour, right?"

"Yeah. Why do you w-" I stopped. "Wait. Liz, right?"

"Am I that apparent?" he asked, looking across the bleachers at where the cheerleaders where practicing.

"Well, that's the only connection I can make between you and theatre," I said.

"I was wondering if you could do me a little favor," he said. "I was kinda hoping you could give her a note for me."

"Seriously? A note?" I asked. "Why not just talk to her?"

"Because I can't get her away from her friends," he said. "And none of the cheerleaders have theatre with her, but you do."

"So, you want me to do, what? Give her an anonymous love letter?" I asked.

"Ooh," he said, "That's even better than what I was thinking."

I shook my head and reached for my water bottle. "What's in it for me?"

"If you give Liz the note, I won't tell Derek you've been staring at him for the last half hour."

I fumbled with the bottle and it fell. Hitting the floor of the bleachers, it rolled down the entire section with a clunk. I turned to Simon to see his elbows resting on his knees and his chin resting on the tips on his knuckles. The devious smile and raised eyebrows made me nervous.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I said, my face bright red.

"I've been watching you for a while. You're eyes have been glued to him for half an hour," he said.

"I'll give Liz the note, but please don't tell him," I said.

"Okay then," he said, standing up. "I wasn't going to tell him anyway, but you've agreed, so I don't have to worry about it. See you in gym."

I watched dumbfounded as he walked down the steps towards and field. He stepped up beside Derek, who was drinking from his water bottle, and lightly slapped him on the shoulder in greeting. The reality of what just happened hit me and felt the barest hint of panic hit me. I just basically admitted that I liked Derek, and to his best friend. I didn't even care that he had tricked me.

Grabbing my bag, I walked the entire length of the bleachers and came out as far from the players as possible. Talking to the coach could wait until tomorrow morning.

**Chapter 4 done. Now time for some much needed laziness. Also, I love hearing your predictions about what's happening or going to happen. If helps me know if I'm successfully leading you guys the right way. **


	5. Riding With The Team

**Let the guilt begin. So, I realize it's been over a month now since I last updated, but in my defense, life stuff got in the way. First it was finals, then the holidays, then my sister was home and it's impossible to do anything productive when she's home. Anyway, I'm back now and hopefully a month away won't screw me up too bad.**

**This chapter is dedicated to Jessibarrios.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Darkest Powers**

Stepping into the gym, I looked around to see a couple of guys shooting hoops before the first bell. They didn't pay any attention to me being there, so I just walked on until I was standing in front of the guys' locker room. I still had no way to talk to the coach while he was inside, so I basically stood there and hoped someone would come out. After a few minutes, my patience paid off. The door opened and Coach Stevens stepped out. He glanced at me before proceeding to staple something onto the bulletin board on the wall next to me.

"Uh, Coach?" I said as he scribbled something on the paper he just stapled.

"What is it, Saunders?" he asked without turning around.

"About tonight's game," I said. "Is it absolutely necessary that I attend?"

"I agreed to allow you to watch my boys practice if I was supplied with footage of every practice and every game. That includes away games."

"I understand that," I said, "It's just that my car isn't exactly reliable and I don't know if it would make it all the way there and back safely."

"Then you can ride on the bus with the boys," he said.

I was dumbfounded for a moment. "What?"

He turned around and looked at me. "We leave at five sharp. Be here by quarter to five. We meet by the bus."

He stepped past me and back into the locker room before I could further protest his suggestion. _On the bus with the team?_ A sudden feeling of dread weaved itself through my entire body and I didn't stop the very vocal groan from escaping. An hour and a half on a bus with the football team. There was no way this could end well.

I found Mila in the chemistry room and took my seat next to her. She looked over at me and raised her eyebrow in a silent question.

"I'll be riding with the football team," I answered, dropping my head onto the table.

"That blows," she said. "Too bad you can't say you're allergic to the male gender."

I turned my head so that I could see her. "Think that'd work?"

She shrugged. "On the bright side, at least we only have away games every other week. I would totally drive you, but my car is currently under house arrest."

"Commandant found the piercing?" I asked.

She lifted her shirt slightly, revealing the small stud in her navel. "I don't see what the big deal is."

She lowered her shirt and smiled. "I'll get him back, though."

"Where this time?" I asked.

She lightly fingered the dip in her nose. "Something tasteful, I think."

"Tomorrow work for you?" I asked.

She nodded. "I've got a paper due in psychology, but I can do that on Sunday."

…,,,,….

I stepped into the gym and found my class. We all knew what we needed to do, but we waited for Coach Wilson to show and demand we start. I looked around at everyone to see if they'd paired up yet. I didn't mind being stuck with the one lazy person, but I'd prefer to partner with someone who actually made an effort. However, everyone already appeared to have their partner and I sighed. Oh well.

When Coach Wilson arrived, I stood up and brushed the dirt off my shorts. I was about to head over to my 'partner' when something brushed against my elbow. I turned around to see Simon standing behind me. Something clicked and the memory of yesterday surfaced. I could feel my face heat up and he laughed at my reaction.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he said, smiling. "I'm not going to tell Derek. Your secret is safe with me."

I still didn't unbristle and he shrugged. "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to be partners."

"Partners?" I asked.

"Unless you already have one," he said, giving a knowing glance over to where I had been going.

I relented. "Alright."

"Great," he said, grinning broadly.

I followed him to an empty part of the gym and we began our exercises. After half an hour, we began our laps and I struggled to keep up without looking like a fish gasping for breath. After a few laps, I finally broke the silence.

"Why did you want to be partners with me?" I asked.

He glanced over and slowed down a bit with he saw how red my face was. I silently cheered the slowed pace.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because you're captain of the basketball team and I'm a nobody," I answered.

He ignored my last comment. "I wanted to get to know you."

"Why me?" I asked.

"Because you like Derek," he said, looking over again.

"I'm not the only girl who likes Derek," I argued. "If that was your criteria, you'd be running with half the school."

He let out a breathy laugh. "Got me there. But I know most of those girls. If fact, I know most of the school. I do not, however, know you."

"And what's so special about me?" I asked.

"You attend the same school as me and you're in one of my classes," he said. "I don't really need any more reasons. I'm only a year ahead of you, which means I've had twelve years to at least learn your name and the fact that I waited until my senior year is kind of disappointing."

"Nine years," I corrected him.

He turned to me. "Huh?"

"You've had nine years to learn my name."

He looked confused and then turned to his fingers. When I saw him start to count with them I began to laugh. I stopped running to catch my breath and tried to stop laughing when I saw the even more confused look on his face. Without even thinking about what I was doing, I stepped forward and grabbed his hands.

"Year one was when I was kindergarten," I said, pulling up one of his fingers. "Year two was in first grade. Then there was the rest of elementary school expect fifth grade, when you were in the middle school. The same goes for eighth grade. Then there's ninth, tenth, and this year doesn't count. That's nine years."

He stared at his fingers. His eyes shifted over to the one that I still held in my own and I snapped my hand back. I could feel my face growing warm. He wiggled his upright fingers and smiled.

"Guess you're right," he said. He looked up at me and grinned. "Nine's better that twelve, right? Now I don't feel so bad."

I nodded, still a little embarrassed. "Well, you really don't have to. I haven't really done anything to make an impression, so I doubt a lot of people know my name."

He started walking toward the water fountain and signaled for me to follow.

"Well, you shouldn't have to do anything for people to know your name," he argued. "And that doesn't even work all of the time. Remember a couple of years ago when that senior drove the principal's car over the football field and crashed it into the bleachers."

I nodded. "I think I remember that."

"Yeah," he said. "Everyone remembers it, but do you have any idea what the guy's name was?"

I searched my mind and came up empty. "No."

"Well, neither do I," he said. "I doubt anybody knows. The guy who did it probably doesn't remember he did it."

"Isn't he in jail?" I asked.

"Yeah," Simon said. "But for something far worse, I'm sure."

I laughed and he threw back a smile. He stopped in front of the fountain and took a drink. I took my turn when he was done and looked up at the clock. Class was over in a matter of minutes. I reached down to my shorts and remembered that I didn't have any pockets so Simon had my paper. He realized what I was doing and reached inside his pocket and pulled out our papers. When he passed over mine, I was puzzled at the increased thickness. I examined it closer and saw that it was two things, not one. The crudely folded piece of paper was my gym record. The other thing was a folded envelope.

I held it out to him. "I think this is yours."

He shook his head. "It's the anonymous letter."

I remembered our conversation yesterday and realized it was the note for Liz. I tucked it behind my paper and nodded.

"I'll give it to her," I said.

"Thanks," he said, smiling.

The coach blew his whistle and Simon jogged off to the locker room, throwing back a small wave. I walked to my respective locker room and grabbed a quick thirty second shower before throwing on my street clothes and heading to English. I fingered the envelope in my pocket. I wasn't sure how I felt playing messenger, especially with an anonymous love letter. I felt like cupid, without the bow and arrow…and the diaper. I suppose some people would see it as romantic, but it felt a little pointless to me. They were together a lot, so why not just ask her out?

My thoughts plagued me throughout English and lunch. When I stepped into study hall, I ignored Amber sitting in her normal seat waiting for Derek and found a seat at the front of the room by the window. The classroom was right next to my math room, so I could see out into the parking lot. The mysterious motorcycle was parked in its normal spot. I still had no idea who it belonged to. I've never seen anybody on it, except that one time, but they were wearing a helmet and I couldn't see the face. I did know that it was a guy, though, so that narrowed it down a bit. It was always parked there when I got to school and was always there when I left after practice. I straightened up. _It's always there when I leave after practice._ I smiled to myself. That meant that whoever owned it was still at school two hours after it ended. They were probably on some sports team because no club went that long. Now I just had to figure out which teams were currently having practice at this time of year and that would narrow it down considerably.

Movement in front of my face drew my attention away from the motorcycle and I turned my head to see my water bottle being placed on the table in front of me. I looked up and froze. Derek made eye contact briefly before lowering his hand and walking back to take his seat. I stared at the bottle and bit my lip. Yesterday I left my water bottle at the bottom of the bleachers when I fled from practice. Derek must have seen me drop it, which was humiliating. Looking back out at the parking lot, I tried to forget my embarrassing incident with my new sense of accomplishment.

I was still feeling accomplished when last hour rolled around. As soon as I entered the room, I saw Liz sitting in her normal seat and the envelope in my pocket suddenly felt like lead. I had no idea how I was going to give it to her without it being extremely awkward.

I spent the hour staring at the back of her head. When the bell rang, I took a deep breath and pulled the envelope from my pocket. Liz had her back to me as she packed up her bag. I cleared my throat slightly and she turned around.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I said, already feeling awkward. "Um, this is for you."

I held out the envelope and she took it from me. She unfolded it and read the solitary 'Liz' written on the outside.

"It's from your…," I blanked at what to say. "Secret admirer."

I felt stupid as soon as it left my mouth. It sounded like something a six-year-old would say. Her reaction, however, was the farthest from what I would expect.

She smiled excitedly. "Who is it from? Oh wait! Don't tell me."

She smiled down at the envelope. "Thank you."

She laughed with utter glee and ran past me, probably to show her friends. I was a little stupefied and I looked behind me at where she had ran from the room. Suddenly Simon's idea wasn't so pointless. Based on how happy the thought of a secret admirer made her, Simon obviously knew what Liz liked. I shook my head and the silliness of it all and left the room. I honestly didn't understand the thrill behind it, but then again I'd never received a letter from a secret admirer.

Coach Stevens said I had to be at the school by 4:45, which meant I had almost two hours to kill. A responsible teenager with two hours to kill would spend it doing homework or studying, but who was I kidding? Pulling out my phone, I texted Mila. I would have sent a text to Sam as well, but she had an extra study session on Fridays. Stopping at my locker long enough to collect my homework for Sunday night, I headed to the parking lot. Mila was already there, waiting for me by my car.

"Ready?" I asked, unlocking the door and swinging my bag into the backseat.

"I can't wait to see Dad's reaction when he comes home tonight," she said. "I'm so glad I'm doing this today instead of tomorrow."

I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. As I waited to turn left, loud revving erupted next to me and I turned my head just in time to see the mystery motorcycle turn right and disappear into traffic.

"You can go," Mila said.

"Huh?" I said, taking my eyes off the spot he disappeared.

"You can turn," she said pointing ahead.

I looked over and saw she was right. Pulling out, I leaned back in my seat and settled into traffic. It didn't take long to get to the mall. I suppose that was the intention when they built it. Our old mall had been condemned for fire hazards or something and a new one was built a few years ago. They built it a few miles from the school, which meant a lot of students headed straight to it after school.

Pulling into the lot, I killed the engine and we went straight to the only store in the mall that did piercings. It also did tattoos, but the guy who worked there knew Mila and refused to give her one unless her dad okayed it. Luckily, he wasn't so strict with piercings.

"Hey," Mila called out as we stepped inside.

"Back again?" Mike asked behind the counter.

"Can't get rid of me," she said. "Nose this time."

He nodded and started preparing the stud. He didn't even ask which one she wanted, which led me to believe that she'd already made him aware of the possibility before today. Instead of the chair, she hopped up on the counter. I settled myself against the wall. This wasn't my first time watching her get a piercing. I kinda hoped it would be my last, though. I don't care who you talk to, a tongue piercing is not attractive.

"Want one, too?" he asked, looking over at me.

I laughed. "I don't think so. If I came home with a stud in my nose, I'd be spending the rest of my adolescence staring out my window."

"Hey, Rapunzel had a pretty sweet deal," Mike said, grinning over at me.

He finished sterilizing Mila's nose and I watched as he readied himself. Just before he squeezed the trigger, Mila looked over at me with that familiar devious look. She didn't even wince when the end pierced her cartilage. When he pulled back, Mila was left sitting there with a tiny stud in a slightly red nose.

"All set," he said.

She pulled out some money and he handed her back the change.

"Your dad is going to kill you," I said.

"He wouldn't do that," she said, hopping off the counter. "That'd get him time."

…,,,…

I dropped Mila off at her place and then headed home. I still had an hour before I had to be at the school, so I ate an early dinner and did my geography homework. By the time I was done, it was show time. Stuffing my bag with my supplies, I set out. It felt weird to be arriving at school at night when almost no one was there. I parked in the student parking lot and walked to the back lot, where two busses were waiting. I knew one of the busses was for the cheerleaders and the other was for the players. I would have preferred to ride on the cheerleader's bus, but I had a feeling their coach didn't like me much. Apparently I was a distraction. I checked my phone. I was just on time. A lot of the guys were hanging out around the bus, goofing off. I made a beeline for the coach, who was checking off names on his clipboard.

He glanced at me when I stepped up next to him and checked something off. I was surprised that I was on his list. After ten minutes of awkwardly standing there, the coach ordered everyone onto the bus. I took a deep breath and followed the guys. When I lifted myself off the last step, I looked around at the crowded scene before me. I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted an empty seat in the front. Sitting down, I pulled my bag into my lap and tried not to look as out of place as I felt. I looked out the window to see the coaches discussing something. As soon as they were done talking, the coach got on the bus and the engine roared to life. The bus jerked forward and we were on our way.

I looked behind me. The guys in back were rough housing and laughing. My eyes drifted over everyone and I spotted Derek about halfway back. He was sharing a seat with some guy I still didn't know the name of. The other guy was turned into the aisle and was talking to some guy behind him. Derek was looking down at something in his lap. He didn't seem to want anything to do with the other players.

I turned around. It was a forty-five minute drive to the game and I was basically alone. Pulling out my book, I let my mind be distracted for the ride.

…,,,…

I let all the players go past me off the bus before stepping off myself. Clutching my bag straps tightly, I looked around the parking lot. My eyes followed the team. They were obviously heading towards the locker room, which meant I had to find the field by myself. Jumping on the bandwagon, I followed a family who obviously knew where they were going. I was sure I was on the wrong side of the field with the opposing team's fans instead of my own, but I looked on the bright side. Now the coach could get footage from a new perspective.

The bleachers were full to bursting and I had no hope of sitting down at all. Elbowing my way through the crowd, I used my small stature to my advantage and squeezed my way to the front so I could see. Everyone behind me was squeezing me against the railing, but I took a deep breath and bore through the pain.

This game seemed to pass faster than the last one, which was hard to believe because there were more timeouts in this one. Our team seemed to be trying to prove their toughness by the brutality of their tackles. I hadn't seen this much blood since my Dad dragged me to a hockey game with his boss so I could entertain his boss's son. I might as well have stayed home. The kid was more interested in the blood smeared across the glass than the game itself.

When our team won, I resisted the urge to clap. I was among the enemy and they were a little hostile towards the final score. In fact, I almost got nailed with a beer bottle someone drunkenly threw. Clutching my camera, I fled as fast as I could. However, in my fear of blunt objects, I ended up completely lost. By the time I found my way back to the parking lot, all the families were packing up and heading out. Dread started to build up in my stomach when I realized I forgot where we had parked. I checked my watch. The team definitely could have changed and got to the bus already. However, the coach did like to give really long 'pep' talks to the players after the games, so there was still a chance they were still in the locker room.

Sighing, I leaned up against the building and looked through my footage. I managed a really good shot of our number 84 tackling another player. You could even see the blood spraying from the guy's mouth. If I was doing a project documenting the brutality of American football, I had my opening scene.

Something large passed out of the corner of my eye. Looking up, I saw Derek's back as he walked out into the parking lot. Finding my chance to get back to the bus, I stuffed my camera in my bag and scurried off after him. He knocked on the door of the bus and got on when the driver opened the door. I saw hesitation and a little condemnation on the driver's face when I followed Derek on. He must think I'm the teams' 'in-flight entertainment' or something. Not that I really blamed him. What other reason would a girl ride with an entire football team?

I sat down in my original seat and glanced back. Derek and I were the only people on the bus. The rest of them must still be in the locker room. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I sat back. Pulling out my phone, I saw three missed texts from Mila asking about the game. I texted back a quick response before pulling out my iPod and shoving my ear buds in. Leaning back, I closed my eyes. After a few minutes, I could hear the bus shake slightly as the rest of the team boarded. Once I felt the rumble of the engine, I let my mind go and before I knew it I was asleep.

I wasn't aware we had arrived back at the school until I felt the sharp pain of my ear buds being yanked out. I sat up and looked up to see the coach standing over me. Looking around, I rubbed my eyes and stood up. I was the last one off the bus, as evidenced by the rapidly emptying parking lot. As I walked to my car in the dark shadows, it occurred to me that my parking space wasn't all that bright. Gripping my whistle, I cautiously looked around me. Luckily the parking lot was dimly lit with street lights and I could see where I was going. As I stepped out into the light, a shadow passed me and I gasped. Swirling around, I frantically searched for the source of the shadow. Slowly backing up, I tried to control my raging heart rate. With one last look, I turned and walked as fast as I could to my car. Next time I would park in the same lot as the bus.

Getting in my car, I sighed in relief. Maybe a little protection wouldn't hurt.

**And done. It's taken my days, but chapter five is done. And I'm really sorry. I promised myself no filler chapters with this story, only important ones, but this one's mostly filler I guess. Oh well. It did have its high points. **


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